I take bread dough as material with certain properties and ability to be baked - and eaten.
Chunky and rough, meaty, heavy yet fragile. Familiar and appetizing smell. It seems to connect with the body as it holds some vibrations, those of organic molecules that will decay and transform if I wait long enough.
The relationship with it depends on time. It does not wait for me, it does not wait for market or industrialization. It requires care and nurturing. It is not practical; it is primitive and perhaps precious.
Working with organic matter communicates different affections and opportunities. It is alive, surprising and hard to control.